


Taking the Plunge

by EnglishPoet18



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 17:43:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3143027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnglishPoet18/pseuds/EnglishPoet18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CARYL. Set between seasons 2 and 3 before the group finds the prison and while they are on the road. Rated M. I own nothing from The Walking Dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking the Plunge

...

Carol was tired. She just wanted to curl up on something moderately comfortable and sleep for decades. It was hard because it seemed like every time she tried, somebody needed her for something. Not that she minded being needed, because she didn't. She liked taking care of people, but sometimes she needed a break. So she was more than glad when they managed to find a house big enough for them all for the night.

"Seems safe enough," T-Dog commented as the group all filed inside of the two story house.

Rick was looking out of one of the man windows, his expression tense. He had been that way ever since they had been on the road, Lori's pregnancy weighing on him heavily.

Carol glanced at the very pregnant woman. She looked miserable, her very full belly looking like you could pop it with a pin. Carol alternated between feeling sorry for her and feeling like she had brought it on herself.

"I don't know. Maybe we should keep moving," Rick said. There were several responding groans from the group.

"Rick please. I'm tired...we're all tired," Lori said in a pleading voice.

Rick barely glanced at her, mostly looking through her as he had been doing the past few months. Maggie and Glenn were leaning on one another wearily and Beth was nodding off against Hershel's shoulder. Carl was fidgeting with some books he had found in a corner while T-Dog lingered in the doorway of the living room. Daryl was the only one of them who looked fully alert, but then again he always did. Carol watched as he touched Rick's shoulder and their leader looked over at him.

"We need the rest. Let's take a couple days. They can't keep goin' like this," Daryl said softly.

Rick ran a hand through his hair as his eyes swept over the others. Finally he sighed and nodded, "Okay. We'll stay, rest a bit," he said.

The others all released collective sighs and dispersed to stake claims on bedrooms.

"I'm goin' down to that pond we passed. Might be some fish there," Daryl said to Rick.

"You don't need to go alone," Rick responded.

"I'll go," Carol spoke up suddenly, surprising herself. She really did need to get away for a bit, away from all of the somber faces.

Daryl looked at her and she anticipated an argument, but he finally just nodded, gesturing for her to follow.

...

The hope for fish soon became a reality as they managed to catch more than a handful from the pond. They were using a makeshift pole Daryl had constructed from a broomstick, some string, and some hooks he had found. The man was nothing if not inventive.

She could watch him for hours. The play of the muscles along his back as he shifted and moved caught and held her attention. Several times now their eyes had met, him being the first to look away each time.

They had gotten closer since being on the road, an easy friendship developing between them. Except lately, Carol found herself wanting more, much more. So much so, that she couldn't resist teasing him from time to time, enjoying the way that his cheeks blushed a faint red.

She moved towards him now, purposely standing close to him. She leaned forward, her lips almost grazing his ear as she whispered, "You're so good with your hands."

He cursed, pulling away a few steps, "Stop."

Carol chuckled, loving the way he could seem so shy yet so masculine at the same time. He gave her a look, a cross between irritation and amusement. She had gotten quite good at reading his looks over the winter months out on the road. Although they had developed a deeper friendship and she got a kick out of teasing him, she never ventured too far. She feared that if she did then he might pull away from her.

Stringing up the fish, he turned to her as she rubbed her arms briskly. Evening would be approaching soon and the nights were still cool.

"Come on. This should be enough. Let's head back," he said.

She nodded and he gestured for her to lead the way, falling into silent steps behind her.

...

Carol listened to Glenn and Daryl talking as she got herself ready for bed. She smiled to herself as she picked up bits and pieces of their conversation.

"What do you mean it's the only room left?" Daryl hissed.

She was sure she heard Glenn snicker and she shook her head.

"There's five rooms," Daryl commented.

"Yeah..." Glenn said slowly as if Daryl needed help understanding. "Me and Maggie, Lori and Carl, Hershel and Beth, Carol, and T-Dog. Hey, we can always move Carol in with T."

Carol heard a low growl and her eyes widened. Both of the men were downstairs, but their voices carried up through the vent to her room.

"I'll take the couch then," Daryl said matter-of-fact.

"Rick's got the couch, said he's taking first watch. Why are you being so difficult?" There were low murmurs and grumbling that Carol couldn't quite make out. "Okay, okay. Go sleep with T-Dog then."

"I ain't sleepin' with no man and besides, he snores," Daryl almost sounded like a petulant child.

Glenn sighed audibly, "Then man up and go sleep with Carol. We both know you want to anyway."

This was followed by more growling, a smack, and then a wince from Glenn. Carol laughed softly, imagining Daryl cuffing the man in the back of the head. Glenn could be something of an instigator at times, but not in a bad way and she adored the man. She was yanked from her amusing imagination as she heard footsteps on the stairs. She quickly moved away from the vent and jumped into the bed as a knock sounded at her door.

"Come in," she called.

Daryl opened the door at Carol's reply and slid awkwardly into her room. He closed the door behind himself, glancing over at her.

"Ain't no more rooms," he explained. "Mind if I borrow your floor?"

Carol frowned, "Yes I do. There's plenty enough room in the bed."

He shifted, "Floor's fine," he replied as he lowered his crossbow.

"Don't be stubborn. The bed is comfy. Come on, I don't bite," Carol coaxed. "It's cold and you can help keep me warm."

She added that last part on impulse, but it was the truth. It really _was_ cold. She could almost see her breath fogging the air as she breathed in and out.

He sighed, "Fine. Scoot over."

He removed his boots, settling in on the far side of the bed still fully dressed, but Carol chose not to comment. The fact that he was actually sharing a bed with anyone, much less her, kind of shocked her a bit. They lay there in silence, fingertips almost brushing.

She couldn't help but think back to Glenn and Daryl's conversation and wonder if Daryl perhaps _did_ want to sleep with her. The thought alone was making her feel hot and bothered in a way that she hadn't felt in quite some time. The man was so close to her that she could _smell_ him...the scent of the forest and all man was invading her senses in every way. She shifted in the bed, wondering if she was going to be able to fall asleep now that she was thinking these thoughts. She felt Daryl turn in the bed, his eyes on her.

"Something goin' on with you?" He asked.

Carol turned in his direction, not realizing that he was so close, his breath almost hitting her skin with how close he was. She rolled without thinking, propping her chin in one hand as she stared in his general direction. She was feeling a little drunk with arousal at the moment with all these images floating around in her head. She was a woman for crying out loud...a woman with _needs_ , needs only a man like Daryl Dixon could fulfill.

So it was with these thoughts that she leaned forward, intending to kiss him, but misjudging in the dark and landing in his neck. So she improvised and inhaled deeply. He tensed, but didn't move. Emboldened, she slid over further. God he smelled so good, she thought as she buried her face further.

He made a noise low in his throat, "Carol?"

Oh, God. His voice was deep and so very sexy sounding. Her face was still buried against his throat which was covered with at least a week's worth of growth and when she breathed him in, he exhaled slow and long. She blamed that sexy sound for what she did next. She licked him.

He jerked away as if she had bitten him and she resisted the urge to laugh.

"What the hell was that?" He demanded in a low voice.

"My tongue?"

He had moved so far away from her that she went from feeling playful and sexual to feeling very unsure of her decision. She began to inch away from him as much as the bed would allow, but he reached out a hand and captured her wrist.

"Carol."

His name on her tongue sent shivers of pleasure down her spine and she felt the tips of her fingers tingle from the warm pressure of his hand against her wrist. They stayed frozen in place for several moments...caught in some horrible time freeze where she wasn't sure what to do or say next.

Finally she sighed, "I totally misjudged the situation, didn't I?"

He didn't release her hand, but instead rolled in her direction. "What situation?"

"You," she muttered, covering her face with her other hand. "You don't want to sleep with me. It's okay, I mean I know I'm nothing special."

He growled low in his throat, yanking on her wrist so that she pulled her hand away.

"That what you think? You think I don't wanna sleep with you because...because I ain't attracted to you?"

"Daryl, it's okay. Really, I understand. I'm not as young as I once was. I just thought...I was stupid," she muttered.

"Stop sayin' shit like that!" He cried angrily. "It ain't that! Hell...if anything you're too sweet for me."

Carol wanted to laugh. Sweet? He thought she was sweet? If only he knew the thoughts that went through her mind sometimes...he might take that statement back then.

"Why does everyone say I'm sweet? It's like the kiss of death!"

He released her wrist finally and chuckled softly, "Alright then. Name one thing 'bout you that ain't sweet," he challenged.

Carol thought about it for a few moments and then she sat up, grabbing his hand. Not stopping to think about it, she shoved it down her pants.

"Fuck," he hissed.

She wasn't wearing any panties. She almost smirked as she imagined the shock upon his face. It only took a matter of seconds for them both to realize that his hand was down her pants and his fingers were lightly grazing over her very wet lips. She waited for him to pull away, to maybe run from the room in disgust. Except that didn't happen. Ever so slowly he flexed his fingers, the tip of one sliding just between her folds. He made a noise deep in his throat at the same time that she whimpered.

"Daryl?" She questioned as her brain silently pleaded with him not to stop.

He didn't seem to hear her as his breath ghosted over her ear, his lips trailing across her neck. She shivered, her thighs tightening close together, but his hand kept them pried apart. She turned her head, their breath mingling before his mouth closed over hers. He kissed her with devastating care and sweetness, his lips soft and pliable as they slanted over hers, his tongue searching out every crevice of her mouth. She was panting when he pulled away, his fingers growing more bold in their travels.

He shifted in the bed, moving over her and bringing his face close to hers, "You sure 'bout this?"

Carol swallowed, taking a deep breath, "I swear to God Daryl, if you stop..." She let out a whimper as his finger pushed further inside of her body, her threat falling flat.

Whipping back the covers, he tried to pull his hand free, but she closed her thighs, trapping his hand.

He chuckled, "I ain't done with you yet, but I kinda need to remove your pants," he whispered.

Her mouth formed a round 'O' and she released his hand, helping him to remove her pants. When did it get so hot in here? She felt like she was burning up.

When he didn't immediately travel back to the v of her legs, Carol glanced down, searching out his shadow. His mouth closed over her hip and she sucked in a sharp breath, her teeth biting her lip so harshly she thought she might have drawn blood. Her fingers grasped at his shirt weakly, her body already on the verge of an orgasm. It had been too long and his mouth felt too good. She arched her hips, desperately trying to get his fingers to return to her happy place.

She nearly jumped out of her skin as she felt his nose skirt her slit, the sound of him inhaling deeply doing erotic things to her body. He pulled back from her suddenly and she could just make out him shaking his head no.

"Nah...you got that wrong. This is sweet too," he murmured.

Before she could think up a response, his fingers slid back into her and he began a slow rhythm that had her rocking her body against him, meeting him thrust for thrust. She pulled his face up to her and kissed him again, long and hard. He returned her kiss more forcefully this time, almost possessive in a way. She felt her muscles tighten, her toes curl, and she wrenched her mouth away from his.

"I'm gonna-"

"God, _yes_."

She was already shuddering as he pressed his hips against her, his fingers still sliding in the same rhythm as before. She had no idea how much time went by before she opened her eyes, her body feeling more relaxed than it had in a long time. She could feel him watching her.

"We're not done," she said firmly. If they were going to go this far, then she was going to get all of him. "Take off your clothes," she demanded.

"Yes ma'am."

He moved away from her and she heard him removing layers of clothing as she went to work on her shirt and bra, the last items separating her from her nudity. He crawled back onto the bed, laying next to her, and for the first time all night she began to wonder if Daryl had done this before. He seemed...nervous all of a sudden.

She slid her hand over his bare chest, reveling in the feel of his muscles. He twitched, but his hands encircled her hips and they kissed again as she worked to get him relaxed. When they parted, he leaned his forehead against hers softly. She waited, sensing that he had something on his mind.

"I ain't-" he paused and she could almost hear him arguing with himself in his head. "I ain't too good with this."

She kissed his cheek, "It's okay. I'm a little out of practice myself," she admitted.

He sighed, "It's a little more than that."

Carol stared in his direction, trying to figure out if he was really admitting to her that he had never had sex before. There was no way in hell this man had never been with a woman. He was much too good looking for that.

"Are you telling me that...that you've never? But just now...when you-"

"I've been that far, just not _all_ the way," he mumbled.

There was something so endearingly sweet about the whole idea that Carol came to a decision. She would help him through this no matter how much practice it took. She grinned to herself, glad that he couldn't see her.

Pushing him onto his back, she crawled over him, gasping as her body came into contact with his hard cock for the first time. She paused, trailing her hand over the ridged flesh, closing her fingers around him as she tried to get a feel for his size.

He pushed up into her hands, his breath hissing through his teeth. She let go of him and crawled further up his body to straddle his hips, his cock lying just underneath her, burning her skin. His hands moved over her hips, his fingers gliding over her skin as he explored her body. She leaned forward and pressed soft kisses to his chest, her nipples grazing his skin as she worked.

He growled low in his throat, his hands cupping her ass as he rocked gently underneath her. She got the hint. She wanted him badly too. Lifting herself, she grabbed him and positioned him at her entrance. His hands pushed down on her hips, impaling her onto him. They both stilled as he slid into her, their moans mingling together.

"Easy," she murmured. "We have time."

His response was to thrust into her, hard, and her eyes nearly rolled up into her head. For his first time, he was surely catching on quick. He glided in and out of her, his hands never leaving her hips as their bodies found a rhythm that worked for them. The feel of him, the taste of him, was intoxicating and it was driving her insane with sensations. Everything combined into one big sexual pull, the feel of his rough fingers sliding over her, the rough scrape of his jaw as she kissed his neck, the strength of his arms as she ran her hands over them...it was all too much.

It was in that moment that she knew that she loved Daryl Dixon. Seeing him like this, sprawled out naked beneath her for her pleasure...there were no words. Fully dressed and upright was overwhelming in itself at times so this was ten times as worse. She was done for.

He was breathing heavily, his body tense as he skimmed his warm, strong hands over her belly to her shoulders and then entangled his fingers with hers. Her breath caught as the emotions threatened to consume her. He gave a swift tug and she fell forward onto his chest.

His breath was warm on her face and she stared at him in the darkness, knowing that he was staring right back at her. She tilted her pelvis, rocking her body forward to take more of him in. He shuddered and she felt herself teetering on the edge, her thighs quivering. And when he took her lips in another kiss, she lost her balance, falling into her orgasm with a force that shocked even her. He pulled back, a low moan unleashing from his throat as he found his own release. They rocked together, bodies vibrating gently as they came.

She fell forward, unable to support herself on her shaky arms. He caught her just in time, his arm keeping her from rolling too far and he pulled her back against him, his breathing still heavy. Finding his hand, she threaded her fingers through it once more, enjoying the way it made her feel. Kissing his hand, she cradled it to her chest between her breasts. He turned into her, his body curving around hers as if they had done it every night for the past ten years. One heavily muscled arm draped over her hip, his thumb absently brushing against her bare skin. She could tell he was sleepy, but she had something she wanted to tell him.

"I love you Daryl," she whispered.

She was terrified, putting her heart out there in that way, but she knew that she did. They could die tomorrow and she wanted him to know it right now. Even if he didn't feel the same, at least she could say that she hadn't chickened out.

"Love you too," he finally whispered, his lips pressing against her shoulder in the softest of kisses.

...


End file.
